


I Don't Wanna Be You Anymore

by hahagirl727



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Burn, Street Kid V (Cyberpunk 2077), at all, but not really, but yeah this relationship is not healthy, my toxic babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hahagirl727/pseuds/hahagirl727
Summary: The telltale crackling of electricity sounds behind her. She sighs. “I think I know now.” Johnny Silverhand’s voice floats (more like fucking slams) into her consciousness.Looking behind her, V sees him leaning against one of the many food stands, chain smoking. Of course.“Know what?” She knows she has to answer. The first couple of days she tried silence, and all it got her was a mega headache. Better to entertain him.“Why you keep me around.”
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V, Judy Alvarez/Female V
Comments: 67
Kudos: 371





	1. in my head

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Guess who's out of retirement to scream into the void? It's ya girl with a college degree now so hopefully the writing is a lot better LOL! 
> 
> So this is kind of just a feelings dump about Johnny and female V. Get in girls, gay's, and they's we're going to pine after a ghost that the game won't let us romance.

It happens when she’s walking away from Clouds. Neon lights nearly blind her as she tails toward Jackie’s bike. She had stopped by for a few drinks and a short conversation with Judy. The tattooed brain dance specialist had some lofty ideas about getting justice for the recently deceased Evelyn Parker and she wanted V to help. They had spent the better part of the night scouting the area together. Occasionally, their arms would bump against each other as V dutifully scanned the building. It felt weird, having friends again. After Jackie she swore, she'd never let herself get this close to anything or anyone.

Then a certain biochip had to worm its way into her brain.

The telltale crackling of electricity sounds behind her. She sighs. “I think I know now.” Johnny Silverhand’s voice floats ( _more like fucking slams_ ) into her consciousness.

Looking behind her, V sees him leaning against one of the many food stands, chain smoking. _Of course_.

“Know what?” She knows she has to answer. The first couple of days she tried silence, and all it got her was a mega headache. Better to entertain him.

“Why you keep me around.”

“Oh, do tell, I can’t want to have my own feelings explained to me by a middle-aged man. Never happened before.” Sarcasm laced her tone, as it was want to do.

“You have any family, V?” She’s reached Jackie’s bike and makes work to straddle it. Johnny materializes behind her, blowing clouds in her face.

“You don’t have to fucking ask me; you got my brain. Find out yourself.” Revving the engine, she moves the motorcycle out of Japantown.

“Got too much to do, rather just know now.”

V rolls her eyes, anything to get him away. “No. Don’t got family.”

“Hmph, makes two of us.” Is what he says.

“That’s not true... You had your band.” A snort from behind her. “You had Alt.”

His lack of a response soothes her for a moment, but lately she’s found herself wanting those silences to be shorter. Maybe she’s just that fucking lonely. Then the magna cum laude of headaches hits her. To the point where she has to stop the bike, nearly throwing herself and her gear everywhere.

She coughs, doubling over and attempts to find the street. It’s as if Johnny is doing a drum solo inside her head. Her vision blurs from the ruckus. “You... Fucking... Asshole-“ V ducks into an ally, the bike forgotten in the middle of the street.

Johnny appears in front of her, slapping her for the second time since they've met. It’s almost strange knowing they can touch yet it’s exclusively used for violence. “Don’t talk about Alt.”

 _Ah, a sore spot indeed._ It had only been a day or two since their little foray with the Voodoo Boys. V knew far more about Johnny than he was comfortable with. And the fact that she saw Johnny get flat rejected by an all powerful A.I. version of his ex. But V was pissed. She had enough of the headaches, sleepless nights, and spiked anger levels.

“It’s not Alt that makes you mad,” she spits. “It’s the fact that you burnt down Arasaka for love instead of your stupid ass ideology.”

“Shut up, V” 

_Bingo._ She usually never gets to him. V lets herself revel in the moment. “We’ve all done dumb shit- I moved to Atlanta for some guy, you killed half the city population. Neither of us got what we wanted.”

Johnny Silverhand makes a noise of disgust.

“Didn’t tell me, you know? Why I keep you around.” She offers.

“Because you got no idea what it means to be close.” Smoke descends on her face. “And I’m the best you got.”

V scoffs. “We’re not close.” She steps away from the wall, calling the bike.

For once, Johnny goes quiet, opting to give her a sly smirk instead. V huffs in annoyance, if he wants to be coy, then she’ll shove coy up his ass. She boards the bike desperate to change the subject.

“I was thinking next up we’d hit Charter Hill—”

“Nah, V you should go home.”

“What?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Oh hello Dr. Silverhand, did you forget I’m dying?”

“And you're fucking speeding it up.” He flicks his finished cigarette at her. “Go home.” 

**SOME TIME LATER....**

V finishes her own cigarette outside of her open window. Johnny had mercifully left her alone since she turned her bike in the direction of the apartment. She could have opted to call up Panam and sleep under the stars, but she doubted it would get her the hours her bed would provide. Despite the fact that it had probably been a solid couple of days since she last properly slept, V was restless. There was too much to do and time was running out-

“Never do listen to me, do you?” There he is again, materializing next to her at the window.

“Why would I ever make things easy for you?” V replies. Suddenly, her cigarette didn’t feel as satisfying as she thought. She flicks it over the ledge. The polluted air of night city wasn’t providing any relief. She closes the blinds.

V gets to work on her nightly routine. At this point, it felt ancient, a relic of a life that was no longer hers. Things like eating, showering, and sleeping were low on her list of priorities ever since her expiration date had been moved up significantly. Making a name for herself… Or having at least a minuscule impact on the world. That was what she cared about.

She changes into one of the rattier tees from her stash, the heat from the shopping center below has her skipping on finding bottoms. Eyeing her bed, the idea of melting into the sheets didn’t seem so bad at the moment. V climbs into her little pod and shuts her eyes.

“You say we aren’t close, yet you’re wearing my shirt to bed.” _Fuck_ , just when she thought she had ditched him for good he always proves her wrong. Blinking awake, V sees Johnny lounging on the couch, feet propped on her table. He’s looking at her, more specifically the thing covering her body.

Her gaze flicks to the shirt she’s wearing. The Samurai logo is clear as day across the front of the oversized thing.

“Pfft, last I checked I bought this shirt from your biggest fan so it’s mine.” She rolls over on her side. The wall is a way better view than him.

He’s there in an instant, crowding her in on the bed. V shoots him a murderous glare. “First you want me to go to bed, now you won’t fucking let me. Spit it the fuck out Johnny.”

The shades are on again, hiding his eyes and suddenly she _gets it_. Johnny’s scared shitless. Scared of being close to someone else, scared of the thought of being scared of losing them… She should have known when he argued for her life to Alt.

They’re friends. Probably best fucking friends. And Johnny Silverhand didn’t do best friends.

“Yeah.” Is all he says.

Her eyes snap to him, she doesn’t have enough time to school her expression ( _or thoughts_ ). He cares about-

“I never fucking said that.” He counters.

A sly smile stretches across her features. “You think you got it all figured out, rockerboy.” She leans back onto the pillow. “But maybe you’re soft after all. Blowing up Arasaka for a chick, telling me you care about me.”

“Eughh, V, you’re gonna make me puke.”

“Good, if it means you’ll let me sleep.” She lets her eyes shut feeling the receptors in her brain begin to quiet as unconsciousness takes over. The shirt rides up a bit over her stomach as she shifts around to find the proper sleeping position.

“I’m only gonna say this once.” Johnny says. V is about to snap her eyes open and _really_ give Silverhand a piece of his mind for interrupting again-

“Don’t open your fucking eyes. This’ll only take a minute.”

Challenging authority was kind of V’s thing. Sticking her chin to the corps, the cops, and gangers was what was making her reputation in Night City shine. V never had to answer to anyone. To a lot of folks in Night City that would be considered true freedom. She's about to tell Johnny where he can shove his commands until she feels the metal hand on the curve of her arm. A shiver going down her spine and her mind blanks for a moment. She hadn't been purposefully touched in so long. There is no way to process it because he starts talking again. 

“We do whatever it takes to stop Arasaka—”

“Here we go again.” She quips, keeping her eyes closed

“But, no more of this… Not eating and sleeping shit.” Is his hand creeping closer, or is it her imagination? _Get a fucking grip V-_

“It’s bad for biz, not just my biz, but your biz too. Do you get what I mean?”

She nods.

“So even if I have to show up and bother you till it happens, I will. It’s happening either way.”

No one had ever said this to her before. V grew up scrounging the streets of Night City, her parents a distant and blurry memory. No one was sending her to school or putting meals on the table. So, V taught herself in the abandoned buildings she called home as a child, fiddling away with tech till the sun rose. She’d venture on her own for food either stealing it or picking up enough biz to get by. There was no one by her side telling her to do anything. No semblance of structure, family, closeness…

_Or love._

_Fuck._

“You hear me, V?” _Oh shit_ , she sincerely hopes he didn’t listen to any of that.

“Yeah. I hear you.” Then, it goes quiet, and V is left in her bed alone.


	2. never fade away

V collapses on the pavement of the shitty hotel parking lot face first. The telltale crack of her nose definitely signified it was broken. If she weren’t actively dying, she would be a little bit more worried. Her body shakes and convulses in tremors, chills rack her spine, drool starts to leak from her mouth… _Oh shit, it’s actually happening this time._

Her time is up. And what did she spend her last night on Earth doing? Hijacking a fucking parade and chatting up with an Arasaka.

Johnny would be pleased.

“Uuugh—” He’s there in an instant, appearing above her and crouching to her level. After their little spat in the motel, she doubted he would come for her. But her body was shutting down. That meant he was fucked too.

“Johnny.” V’s grabs his flesh arm, fingers locking into skin. In this odd place between life and death, it nearly feels real. 

“You ain’t dying yet.”

She can’t see anything, her vision blurring with.. _Tears?_ V couldn’t remember the last time she cried, let someone even see her cry… _See her this way ever_.

“I got you.” Then everything went black.

***********

The first time V had ever heard of Johnny Silverhand was when she was eleven years old. Scraggly hair and patchy clothes adorned the rough and tumble child at the time. Before V had any interest in street biz, she preferred to stay away from it. If she couldn’t make herself useful then then she’d be scarce. Until then, she’d practice, keep her eyes on the pavement, and get better each day. She had to; it was the only way to survive.

One of the only places she had ever called home as a kid was this run-down building in Heywood that used to be a bakery. V was tempted over there at a young age by the enticing street art that adorned the structure. Particularly that of Samurai. Die-hard fans who thought anarchy still had a chance in Night City were a bit more common in V’s younger years. They would tag a fair amount of stuff with the logo or Johnny’s face.

It was when V was walking home from gathering food that day when she noticed the new graffiti. A giant likeness of Silverhand holding an expensive looking guitar.

Under it, V felt small, just as much as the stupid kid as the city painted her as. A nobody with no chance of anything. V wanted whatever it was that he had. She had no idea who the fuck he was, but her opinion didn’t matter.

She wasn’t the one being painted onto buildings.

Pouting, V heads inside.

***********

“Can’t believe you never heard of Samurai.” The cute boy whose name V can’t quite pin down at the moment says.

He didn’t run with any gang. This guy had a _job_. A real nine to five where he delivered food orders to corpo. Nothing glamorous, but it was a step up for V. Most of the guys who went after her barely had any sort of future… _Just like her_. 

They met at a shitty dive bar because it was all either of them could afford. They were both sixteen, trying to get by in Night City, and the bar didn’t give a damn about age as long as you could pay.

They had been hanging out for the past couple of days and it was going well. Sat on the roof of some Kabuki takeout place they shared a cigarette, feeling very rebellious.

“I’ve _heard_ of them. I just never could scrounge up a vinyl.” She said. “Those old fucks are protective.”

“As one of those old fucks, I object.”

V shoves him on the shoulder playfully. “You are not old.” 

He gives her a smile that pulls at his dimples in a way that makes her stomach flutter. V isn’t used to delicate things like this. Especially not when he takes her hand, hands that have punched and scrapped their way through so much, like it’s glass.

“I have one of those records at my place, you know?’ He plucks the cigarette from her fingers and takes a puff. “You can come over. Listen to some Silverhand in person.”

The graffiti in Heywood is so fresh in her mind it’s like she had seen it yesterday. She remembers how insignificant it made her feel. Like a speck in the grand scheme of the universe. But she wasn’t nothing to this boy, who looked at her like she _mattered_.

***********

She can hear the strum chords of Never Fade Away through his door, but they do nothing to cover the sound of the moans inside. V is twenty-one, but she’s not stupid. They tried long distance when he got a job offer in Atlanta, but the calls stopped coming around two weeks in. All of the horrible scenarios flitted across V’s mind as she paced back and forth around her apartment.

He was the only one who ever made her feel like her life was worth a damn…. If he left her, what did she have? No family, no friends, no prospects. A street urchin who was born to nothing and would die with nothing.

So for the first time in her life, V packed up her belongings and left Night City. If he was dead, then she had to know herself, and if not then she’d make any kind of life she could with him. Being raised by fixers, gangers, and hustlers taught her that if she didn’t get it done, then no one would.

It takes _balls_ to leave Night City, and especially leaving with no explanation to the various factions that relied on you for grunt work. She was sure Padre was disheartened by her absence the most. Out of all the fixers in Night City, he had always been the kindest to her, treating her in a way V might imagine a father would. She wouldn’t miss much from that city, but she’d miss him.

Now her hand is hovering over the door, she had tracked him down as soon as she hit the city, getting his name after some digging (and threats). She had done the near impossible and now she was on the verge of chickening out.

“Yes, harder!” A female voice cried out from beyond the door. V knew the answer to her question, she knew since she boarded that bus in Night City.

“ _A thing of beauty — I know, Will never fade away. What you did to me — I know_.” The brash lyrics of the anarchistic band were familiar to her now. She feels the bile rise up in her throat, embarrassment striking her features.

She had let someone get close, listened to the music he liked, let him kiss, hug her, love her and _look what it got her_?

“ _Yeah! We'll never fade away. We'll never fade away_.” Samurai drones from the crackling record player. She wishes it were true, that good things wouldn’t fade away, that she could have this brief flash of security forever.

But that’s not her story, and she’s not that person. She’s just a dirt girl from Heywood who would never find anything better, no matter how hard she tried.

V turns on her heel and leaves.

***********

It’s the night before the heist and Jackie Welles is bustling with nervous energy. They’d tried to keep it chill, not give into their anxieties. Of course, this led to a copious amount of alcohol being consumed and some bad feeder of the week blasting on television.

Jackie’s leg bounces erratically as he tries to focus on the screen. The cheap leather of V’s couch crunches uncomfortably under him as he shifts his position. He sips his beer again.

“You’re thinking about it.” V says, she’s nursing a beer of her own, and she’s about two deep at this point. Her eyes remain on Jackie, watching him in a protective manner.

She had never had friends before; let alone a best friend she could trust with anything. This was rare, about as delicate as the boy who took her hand that night many years ago and then shattered her heart like a porcelain figure. But Jackie wasn’t that guy, he never expected her to like the things he liked or pretend to be someone else. Jackie liked V for V.

V barely even liked V.

“I’m _not_ ,” he counters, but V knows him better. Jackie was always quick to the punch, from the second he ripped her out of that expensive car at their first meeting, he had no patience. He was always the first to finish his meal, wolfing it down before V even had the chance to touch hers. Or telling Misty she was his dream girl on the first date. Jackie Welles never let an opportunity pass him by.

“Ok, then what’s the movie about?” V asks.

“It’s uh- um… They were talkin’? Weren’t they?”

“Yeah Jack, people talk in movies.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

V laughs, tossing a pillow at her friend, Jackie expertly karate chops it away. For a moment, the movement in his leg ceases.

“You know what I do when I can’t sleep before a big job?” V offers.

“This I gotta hear,” Jackie says.

V gets up from the couch, hopping over the back cushion over to the rest of the living area. She approaches a vinyl record player, ducking below to parse through the records stored beneath.

“I find the shittest, loudest, and angriest album in my collection…” She flips through the various worn covers. V had a taste for all kinds of music, and life on the streets meant she found a variety of records in her time.

“And?” Jackie asks, standing from his position to join V.

She gets to the back of the collection when she finds it, _bingo_ , Samurai. Pulling it out, she produces the record and slips it onto the turntable. Loud guitar riffs immediately fill the room, drowning out the movie behind them.

“And, I fucking tear shit up!” With that, V starts galavanting around the room, dancing to her heart’s content. “Dance the anxiety out!”

The abrasive lyrics of Never Fade Away, guide V’s dance moves. Jackie stares at her, a mixture of humor and awe striking his features.

“Come on, Welles, too good for a dance with your best choom?” V stretches out her hand while continuing her movements.

“I ain’t too good for anything, Chica.” Jackie says as he takes her hand. For a moment, there was no heist, no dreams of making it in Night City, no debts or regrets.

There was just V, Jackie, and Samurai and it was more than enough.

\---

“Would you take a bullet for me?” Johnny Silverhand asks. He’s sitting in a chair in front of her just a couple hours after her near flatline. He had taken her, _well dragged her_ , to a motel in Pacifica. The sea air burns in her nose.

That isn’t the only thing that’s burning. Her head is on _fire,_ as if she had been hit with twenty hangovers at once.

She really had thought she was going to die this time. But Johnny Silverhand had taken her from the rubble and given her yet another chance at life. It felt like no matter what he just wouldn’t give up, neither on her nor her body. So many people had faded in and out from her life, but Johnny was the one constant she had. From that little girl looking up at the memorial in Heywood to the woman staring down the legend in the face herself.

“I would, yeah.” Everything V had done in Night City to make a name for herself, to be _someone_ , had been in vain. She lost her best choom to Arasaka and all she had to show for it was a brain eating cancer in the form of a washed up rockstar. Even worse was the fact that said rockstar was the only thing in the world she had some sort of connection to.

V never wanted to lose a friend again. Especially not someone she _loved_ -

“Tags belonged to a man who sacrificed his life for mine in Mexico.” Johnny says, interrupting her thoughts. “Been thinkin’ about our predicament. Wanna be clear, I will do you no wrong. When the time comes, it’ll be my life or yours, I’ll agree to get wiped.”

If he wasn’t looking at her so seriously V would think this was a joke. Johnny Silverhand didn’t make declarations like that nor had he ever shown an ounce of interest in helping her. V always expected for him to betray her in the final hour and hijack her body for himself. The more time they spent together the more she wished she were wrong.

But V knew people, and people always let her down. Left or died or betrayed or-

“Ain’t gonna do that, V.” Johnny lifts himself from the chair, sauntering over to her, standing over her crouched form. He holds out the military tags to her. “Tags are proof of my promise.”

She reaches out and takes them. For a moment, skin brushes metal, Johnny tries to pull away, but V traps his hand in hers.

“I… I’d do the same for you.” For emphasis, she squeezes his hand. She wonders if he can feel it or thinks her ridiculous for even trying.

He gives her a pained look, maybe pity or something else V can’t put her finger on… “Yeah, thanks.”

Johnny is about to move away, astral project himself to another section of the room when V holds on even tighter. "Wait," she _hates_ the vulnerability that laces itself through her voice. If anyone from the streets saw her now she'd just about die of embarrassment instead of the chip. "Will you stay with me, for a bit?" 

He lets out a breath through his nose, and disappears, but not before immediately reappearing sitting by her side against the wall. They sit in silence for a moment. 

She jumps when cool metal touches the bare skin of her arm, Johnny is prodding her with one of his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?" 

"It's gettin' worse, couldn't touch ya like this before." 

V puts her hand over his on top of her arm. She hadn't touched anyone in so long, not since Jackie had given her that final shoulder pat in the Delamin. She leans into it, nearly melting under the weight of everything in her life. Her head finds his shoulder as her vision starts to grow a little hazy. "You can now," she says. 

" _V_." He says it so gruffly, almost like a warning. 

"Just... Please." Is all she says as she curls her body into his. She never thought she'd find this again, a sense of safety, security, trust... 

His metal hand comes up to her, she thinks he might rip her away when he starts stroking hair in a gentle manner. Later, she would have to get up. Figure out what to do with Hanako, or how the hell she was going to find another plan if she didn't want to trust corporate. There was still the matter of Panam's clan, Judy's takeover of clouds...

But now, she had this, and the moment wasn't fading anytime soon. 


	3. i saw a lunar eclipse

“This rollercoaster work back in the day?” V asks. The hot Pacifica sun has made her shed her jacket by Jackie’s bike. She leans against it, admiring the now defunct theme park.

“Dunno,” Johnny materializes on one of the abandoned benches in front of her. He puffs on a cigarette. “Never took the time to find out.”

Walking past Silverhand on the bench, V climbs up to the stagnant rollercoaster cart. She pulls at the bars and seatbelts.

“They still work.” She wipes the dust off the seats. “If we can find a power source then maybe—”

“Didn’t figure you the adrenaline junky.” Johnny says, standing at the edge of the platform.

“I’m a fuckin’ merc, Johnny.” V retorts then breezes past him in search of a panel. “It’s in the job description.”

V finds some space to jump onto below. Turning around, she spies the control panel on the wall. She opens it up and gets to work on bringing the power back.

“Yeah, but not by choice.” Behind her, he’s still talking. V knew when to pick her battles. She told him to shut up when she needed it most, but other times she had to let it go.

This was one of those times. She wanted to ride a rollercoaster goddammit, and no dead terrorist rockstar for whom her feelings are very _(very)_ complicated would ruin that.

“If you didn’t grow up in Heywood raised by beggars and whores… What do you think you would do?”

“What would I do?” She finds the correct wire and reconnects it to the base. “I don’t know, be a rollercoaster operator?”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious,” V says as she pulls herself upward toward the ‘coaster. “Get to watch people have the time of their lives. Only time I’ve ever seen a rollercoaster was on T.V.”

Approaching the seats V slots herself into one snugly. She isn’t sure if Johnny is going to join her until the telltale sign of cigarette smoke hits her nose.

“Bet you anything you’re gonna scream like a little girl.” He gives her a wry smile; shades slipping down his nose.

The rollercoaster sputters to life taking both Johnny and V with it. To any other observer V knows she would look like an insane woman, riding a rollercoaster alone. She gazes over at Johnny who’s too busy admiring the scenery to notice and suddenly she doesn’t give a damn about what an observer would think. The feeling swelling inside her was pure excitement as the ‘coaster takes them higher.

 _Just excitement_ , V tells herself.

Then she’s not telling herself anything because the rollercoaster is going down. A rush of wind hits her face as she raises her hands.

“Ohhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

 _Now who’s the little girl_. But instead of saying that, V whoops. Up here, Night City can’t touch them. She could scream as loud as she wants and no one could tell her otherwise. The stifling heat, smell, and atmosphere was extinct this high up.

Her arm keeps bumping his and she still isn’t used to it. Even in the clouds V can’t escape what she feels every time they brush each other. Mostly, she chalks it up to being touch starved. Ever since getting into the merc life, V hadn’t had time for even one-night stands. Every night not spent doing jobs was spent with Jackie.

 _And now?_ How the fuck could she be with anyone knowing she has an expiration date on her? She hadn’t even gotten off herself since Johnny had invaded her mind. The simple act of _showering_ had been weird as all hell in the beginning until she had to get over the fact that he was going to see her naked. Granted, he made himself scarce during those times, but still... Showering and getting off were too entirely different things.

V needed to get her mind out of the gutter. She thought this rollercoaster might have fixed it by giving her an adrenaline high. It certainly helped, but the problem was far from over.

The rollercoaster screeches to a halt taking the duo right back where they started. The bar lifts off V, but she takes a moment to stay in her seat.

“Holy fuck,” Johnny is back on the platform with his hands on his hips. “Almost beats a good lay, right V?”

Her eyes snap to him, he’s lighting up again. “Shut up Johnny.” She climbs out of the ‘coaster.

“I can’t help hearing you sometimes.” He taps the side of his head. “Especially when you’re this horny.”

“We are _not_ talking about this.” Charging down the stairs, she makes her way back to Jackie’s bike.

“If you needed a minute to yourself you just had to ask.” His tone is teasing, like he caught her with his pants down.

“First of all, I don’t need to ask you before I do anything—”

“Just tellin’ you… You gotta get laid. Your thoughts are hurtin' my head and my dick.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll find time in my busy schedule between dying and the fact that I seem to owe _everyone_ in this city a favor.”

“I always found the time.”

V rolls her eyes. “Well maybe it was easier for you Silverhand. I don’t have built in groupies.”

“It’s not that hard. More people want you than you think, V.”

That makes her check over her shoulder, but he’s no longer there. _Motherfucker_. Exactly the type to say some shit like that then delta.

She tries to ignore the fact that the same comment is repeating in her head as she takes the bike toward Afterlife. Maybe blowing ‘Smasher to hell will get rid of the feeling bubbling up in her chest.

V would take as many jobs as possible until that happened.


	4. it takes two to talk sick

“Unbelievable that bastard’s somewhere in your head.”

When Rogue walks out the door V’s first instinct is to hurl all over the shitty linoleum below her, so that’s exactly what she does. Using shaky arms to pull herself out of bed the first sight she’s greeted with is the materialization of Johnny Silverhand’s crotch.

“Oh, fuck.” He says as her vision moves upward and focuses in on his face. Must’ve seen the anger in her eyes, the pure rage that was getting hotter by the second.

V lunges at him, but Johnny’s faster and flits to the other side of the room. She lands on her ass, crashing into one of the cabinets and probably giving herself a hell of a shiner in the process. All she can see is red. _He tricked her, lied to her, used her_ —

Just like everyone else. Just like she thought he would.

“You tricked me. Just supposed to talk to Rogue.” V hisses, she brings a hand to her head, trying to quell the pain.

“Did talk to ‘er,” is all he replies. Silverhand lounges on a table filled with empty booze bottles. He doesn’t look at her.

“And the stripper? Empathy brawl? Tattoo?” She doesn’t know, doesn’t even want to glance at what Johnny had permanently stamped on her hand. Probably something to fuck with her or make her feel like shit.

“All required, man. Had to give Rogue something real, didn’t I?” He waves his hand nonchalantly as if last night was just another romp in the park.

She supposes to him, it was.

“Could’ve done that myself.” V tries to pull herself up but collapses again. An involuntary whine of pain exits her throat… Fuck she’s turning into a dying dog on the side of the road.

Johnny scoffs. “You? Sure.” 

“Don’t think I could've?” She snarls.

“Could use a little more of me in ya, V.” Reappearing by the door, Johnny gestures to it. “Plus, I got you closer to getting laid than you ever had.”

“Yeah, and if I remember right that didn’t even end up happening.” V has flashes of Ruby’s tongue in her mouth from the night before, but it feels so far removed from reality that she’s almost convinced it never happened. She also tastes blood from that entirely avoidable car accident. 

“Granted, don’t think I could’ve done it without your body. Ruby said you had the best tits in Night City.”

“Great, she should write poetry.”

“That woman was many things, but a liar she was not.”

She’s not sure if he’s still fucking with her or if he’s serious. Any other time she might have cared more, but right now she just wanted to get the fuck away from him.

Getting up, V steadies herself and then makes her way toward the door. Not even looking at Silverhand, she opens it and the bastion of light that greets her on the other side only worsens her headache.

“Had no idea the pills were gonna lay you out like this.” He offers.

“Shut up Johnny.” V finds a stairwell that will take her back to Jackie’s bike, and more importantly her stash. She still keeps the omega blockers on her, been taking them less and less recently, but she never knew when she would need it.

Approaching the bike, V digs through the contents of her stash. She quickly produces the blockers and dumps a myriad into her hand.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Johnny appears before her and snatches the bottle from her hands.

“Or what? What the fuck are _you_ going to do Johnny?” She kicks back the pills, swallowing them dry. “I’ve had enough of you today. You lied to me!”

“If you’d just quit your mumble-whining we could delta.” He looks annoyed at her, like she was the irrational one. As if he didn’t spend the last eight hours hijacking her every thought and decision.

“There is no _we_ right now.” Swinging her leg on the bike she takes off leaving Silverhand in the dust.

**SOME TIME LATER...**

“Look a lot better than you did last night.” Claire observes as she wipes down glasses behind the bar of Afterlife.

“Yeah… Wasn’t exactly myself.” V says. She’s nursing a particularly fruity drink filled with just as much syrup as alcohol. V was glad that at least her taste in drinks hasn’t changed to Johnny’s will. If she had to down another straight tequila she would hurl again. 

“Could tell. Dealing with problems, V?” Out of the many pitfalls in Night City, V actually considered Claire one of the few bright spots. They’re time racing together had taken her mind off of a lot of personal shit and she was glad to consider the bartender a trusted friend.

She trusted Johnny too, and look what that got her. “You have no idea.”

“Is it a guy? A girl? Whenever I’d fight with Dean I’d get the same look on my face.”

Putting her head in her hands V wished Claire was wrong. Johnny once said that they fought like an old married couple. So, V was essentially trapped in a toxic marriage without the amazing sex that comes from it…

_Great._

“Got into a fight with one of my chooms.”

“Were there fists?”

V snorts. “I wish, but no. Couldn’t get a swing in.”

“What’d you fight about?”

“Motherfucker told me he was gonna do one thing, then went behind my back and did another.” She takes another sip of her drink, enjoying how loose the alcohol is making her speech. It felt _so good_ to talk to someone about this.

“Broke your trust, I get it.” Claire goes to the other side of the bar briefly to sling more drinks while V ponders on her words. “Seems like a dick.”

“Massive, but… He’s the closest friend I got. I think I—”

“There you are.” Rogue interrupts the conversation, striding up to the bar like she owns the place because well she does. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder, she joins V in the adjacent seat. “You ready to get this son of a bitch?”

**SOME TIME LATER...**

The jacket feels far too big on her. Rogue had gifted it to her earlier, said it was the closest thing to a Silverhand original she could find. V's not _that_ much shorter than Johnny, but she’s never felt the difference in their physical forms until now. The coat nearly swallows her whole as she leans back in Rogue’s car. They had been waiting for darkness to creep in for a few hours now. A companionable silence had grown between the duo. Rogue had taken to sitting on the hood of the car outside. 

Her vision was starting to haze up at the corners, the omega blockers were wearing off, and she couldn’t keep Johnny out when she killed ‘Smasher. Despite how pissed she was, she knew she needed him, and Rogue did too. Growing up on the streets taught V that strength in numbers was far more powerful than holding a grudge.

“How much longer ‘till sundown?” V asks through the rolled down window.

“Any minute now give or take.” Rogue’s vision is dead set on the street in front of her. Almost as if she expects ‘Smasher to pop up from the nearest manhole.

“Johnny should be back by then,” she says to herself. His fury would be strong, but she hoped his long-standing hatred for ‘Smasher was stronger.

“He go somewhere?” Head turning toward her, V realizes that she’s caught Rogue’s interest. The scrappy street kid in her almost blushed that the queen of Night City was giving her the time of day.

“I kind of blocked him out for the day… Needed space after last night.” Rubbing at her temples, V lets the jacket slide off her shoulder.

When she meets Rogue’s eyes again, the other woman is looking at her with an intensity that could match Johnny’s. In this instant, V knows exactly why the two got along so well. They were kindred spirits in a way.

“You fucking him?” Rogue asks. She asks like it was a question about the weather.

V sputters, nearly choking on her own spit. “What? No, of course not.” She wished she sounded more convincing.

Giving her a sly smile, Rogue gets off the hood of the car and returns to the driving seat. The entire time, she never takes her eyes off of V. “Come on, V. I expected you to be a lot of things but naïve wasn’t one of them. If Johnny hasn’t tried to stick his dick in you before, then it’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh, it’s always like that with him.” Giving her a sympathetic look, Rogue places a hand on her shoulder. “I learned the hard way that fucking doesn’t fix anything with Silverhand.”

“Yet you’re still helping him.”

She huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I am. He has that effect, unfortunately.”

“Well, he’s not the most thankful person so I’ll do it… Thanks Rogue.” V had never thought of the queen of Night City as a real person with feelings, goals, and wants. Rogue was something to attain. A thing V had always wanted to become but could never quite reach. Now that she knew the woman herself, V saw just how hard maintaining the image was and how effortlessly Rogue did it.

For the second time that day Rogue reaches out and caresses the side of V’s face. Studying her features, it was as if she was trying to find some trace of Johnny below.

“Don’t let him fuck you up more than he already has.” Rogue warns her. Then she removes her hand and for the first time V notices it’s now dark outside.

“Ok. Good as it’s gonna get.” Exiting the car, Rogue makes her way down the street not even giving V a second glance.

V makes her own way out. As she brushes down her pants the crackling of electricity sparks in her eardrums.

Johnny is standing in front of her again. He looks just as mad V imagined she seemed this morning. They stare at each other. He glares at her and produces a cigarette. Lighting it up, he makes no effort to keep her away from the smoke clouds. Looking ahead, Johnny notices Rogue crouched by one of the pillars.

“She’s tense. Cover her, just in case.” It’s the first thing he says to her since she blocked him. He must’ve figured out she was hunting ‘Smasher just like he asked.

V makes haste to follow Rogue. “So? Are we even now?” She asks.

A hand descends on her shoulder, pulling back until her back lands on his chest. “How ‘bout we make a deal?” His breath ghosts against the top of her head, making the hairs on her arms stand up.

“I promise never to take your body anywhere without your permission.”

Angling her head upwards she brushes the edge of Johnny’s chin. “And I promise?”

“Not to take those omega blockers anymore.”

She huffs in frustration. “There’s no way—”

“Like it or not we’re in this together V.” His metal hand slides down her arm and guides her palm to her vision. _Ah_ , the tattoo V hadn’t bothered to look at. After briefly banishing Johnny she had made a stop at a local market and bought leather gloves. “Take them off.”

V checks on Rogue again, still behind the column. She has no idea what’s going on only six feet behind her. The only way to get to ‘Smasher was to just take off the glove. It had nothing to do with the fact that she may have missed Johnny’s voice or that his commands are making her feel something she'd never felt before.

She rolls the glove up her hand revealing the ink Johnny got stamped on her. An outline of a heart with an arrow striking through takes up most of the space on her palm. There’s a rough scrawl inside the shape.

_Johnny + V_

“We’re in this together, and neither of us can fuck that up.” With that, he releases her and disappears again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never felt like V was mad ENOUGH at Johnny for the events of Chippin' In sooo...
> 
> I LOVE the women in this game they are all *chefs kiss*. I think Rogue and especially Claire are so underrated so I wanted to show them some much needed appreciation :), love these ladies


	5. and you made it shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this was not really slow burn LOL

The shower steams as V soaps and lathers her bare skin. It felt stupid and pointless nowadays, looking nice, smelling nice, just being presentable in general. Mostly, V would wander out of bed and find whatever ensemble protected her well enough for the day and headed out.

So, this date with Rogue was twofold. Johnny got to reconnect with an old flame, and V got to dress herself up for once. However, she couldn’t help this odd feeling in her stomach. It sure as fuck wasn’t nerves, V admired Rogue, but didn’t feel _that_ way for her. This was about Johnny.

_Then why did she feel so shitty?_

“How much longer you gonna take in there?” Johnny thankfully never enters the shower cubicle V cleans herself in. He often opts to complain about the length of her showers on the other side.

Rinsing herself off, V rolls her eyes. “Gotta clean-up for the queen of Night City, don’t I?”

“She’s just Rogue. I’d see her no matter how shit I looked.”

V turns off the tap to the water and wrings her hair dry. Grabbing a towel, she emerges from the shower, steam flowing behind her. Before Johnny, V would just air dry naked around the apartment, but now it was far too weird. Changing in front of him was far different that letting him get a look at _everything_.

“I’m not a grungy rockstar who doesn’t shower for eight days and calls it a look.” She wipes the mirror to get a good view of her face.

“Yet, I’m still hot as shit.” Turning her head, she sees him in the doorway, leaning against the frame. The fingers of his metal hand quirk as if aching for a smoke.

“Not all of us can be so lucky,” V sarcastically drones. “Some of us have to work at it, rockerboy.”

Stepping away from the mirror, V makes her way toward her closet. She used to _love_ clothes before they became a matter of function before style. For just one night she could forget about how a jacket would protect her against bullets and instead how it looked.

“Should I dress like you? Give her a real blast from the past?” Producing one of the vintage Samurai tank tops she’d managed to track down, V waves it Johnny’s face.

“Eugh, if you want to give her a heart attack.” Johnny’s on the couch chain smoking as he often did when V got ready for the day. Nibbles is curled up taking a nap next to him. Occasionally, Johnny’s metal hand will come up to pet the feline.

It nearly felt domestic. V never had a space to share before. As a kid she’d crawl into whatever hovel would give her shelter for the night and when she grew up, she always opted to live alone. She’d rather have her walls for company than sleep with one eye open every night.

In Night City you couldn’t trust anyone. 

“Wear the white one. It looks much better on you,” Johnny offhandedly comments.

“Are you acknowledging that I don’t look like a gonk all the time?” She teases before removing the towel and producing the white shirt he mentioned.

“Sometimes.” Is what he answers.

Pulling on the white shirt she tracks down some pants that would match and assembles the outfit. Johnny remains quiet while she dresses herself. Once she’s done, V turns around to find him in the same spot on the couch.

“You nervous for your big date?” She asks.

He scoffs. “Why the fuck would I be?”

“Been awhile, things might’ve changed… She may not think you are hot shit anymore.” V heads toward her bed where Johnny’s Samurai jacket was strewn over the night before.

“Just let me do all the talking, V.” He says.

“Sure thing.” V puts on the jacket then gestures to the door. “You ready loverboy?”

**SOME TIME LATER.…**

Gripping the steering wheel, V gives Johnny a hard look. They’re in Johnny’s old Porsche and parking in North Oak. Just hours ago, they were at the drive in with Rogue, sitting on the roof of the very same car.

Then she was gone, and Johnny wouldn’t tell her why.

“Was it something you said?”

He’s silent, sulking in the passengers seat. It’s so unlike him that V finds herself a little bit worried. She has occurrences of the date, but they’re hazy at best. All she remembers was that she was kissing Rogue then just as soon as that happened Rogue was leaving.

“Didn’t say nothing.” That’s all he gruffs out and V doesn’t want to give him more shit. She also can’t help that a small part of her is relived that the date didn’t pan out.

It wasn’t against Rogue. She had been an enormous help to V these past couple weeks. However, the last thing she wanted was to try and juggle a relationship between herself, her brain ghost, and Rogue. _That was all it was._

They pull up to a fancy looking gate. V knows there’s no way someone like her would get inside without having to find another way in. The house beyond the gate is something she had only seen in her dreams before. Any space with more than two rooms always left her a little bit nervous.

“This oughta work.” Johnny says. He’s leaning forward, peering at the gated fortress. If she didn’t know any better she’d guess this was Yorinobu Arasaka's house and Johnny was going to get his final revenge against 'Smasher in person. Or just straight up go on another suicide mission. 

“Well? So, why’re we here, exactly?”

“Heard Kerry got himself a buck-a-mansion here. Done well.”

“Where’d you hear anything about Kerry?”

“In and about town. Screamsheets’re full of shit about ‘im… Oh, right, you weren’t around.”

Her head throbs in the place where it slammed against the windshield that night. “Mhm, your boys’ night out. So what, wanna pay him a visit?”

“Yep. Seems as good a time as any.”

That’s how V finds herself exiting Johnny’s Porsche and scaling the ridiculously high gate to enter his house. It has nothing to do with the fact that breaking into a stranger’s house would take her mind off of the images of Johnny pushing up Rogue’s shirt. That wasn’t _bothering_ her at all. Coming out on the other side left her falling headfirst into his garden.

Well, there goes that shirt Johnny liked.

Standing up, V quietly creeps from the garden to the modern architectural wonder. Luckily, Kerry’s guards are all taking part in a smoke break by the pool. Finding a side door, she gets into the house silently.

The first thing that hits her about Kerry’s abode is the smell. It _reeks_ of alcohol the same way the shitty dive bars V used to hit when she was a teenager did. Bottles of various liquids lay strewn around the living room. Pristine leather couches are marred with empty pizza boxes and stains. The walls are adorned with nasty looking graffiti that V assumes must’ve been done during a party.

Ascending upstairs, it looks even more like a crime scene. If the man didn’t have twenty-four-hour security, she might have feared him dead. Wasn’t he rich enough to hire a maid service? Did he just not care?

The sound of running water attracted V to a closed set of double doors. “Looks like he’s showering?” She says.

“Alone, too. Good thing, believe me.” Johnny’s sitting on one of Kerry’s more expensive looking pieces of furniture, making sure his boots scuff the material as much as possible. “Ok, leave the rest to me. I’ll get him outta there.”

V goes to him, but not before dropping her jacket on one of the chairs. She really can’t believe she’s going to meet one of the biggest celebrities in Night City absolutely covered in dirt.

“Drop one of Misty’s special pills, let’s go.” He’s antsy, way more than usual as well. She guesses he wants this to go better with Kerry than it did with Rogue.

“As long as I don’t have to make out with Kerry too.” V says producing the pills from her pocket and knocking them back. If Johnny got the chance, he totally would, but thankfully she wasn’t Kerry’s cup of tea.

She almost hears Johnny reply before her vision scrambles like an egg. Then, it’s just darkness.

**SOME TIME LATER.…**

Walking down the steep hill to reunite with the Porsche, V was bone tired. After Johnny and Kerry spent some time catching up, she had been returned to her body with little fuss, but the whole thing took a lot out of her. She’d track down Nancy the next day, for now she needed some sleep.

When she reaches the car, Johnny materializes in front of her again. “So all we gotta do is pull Henry out of whatever hole he crawled into and then convince Denny…”

He’s excited, which makes sense. It had been a long time since Samurai had jammed together, but it’s too late at night for her to take any of this seriously. Plus, the date's been on her mind all night. Still having no clue about how many favors she owed Johnny, she wondered if he'd make her go crawling back to Rogue. 

“What about Rogue?” She interrupts without fully thinking.

“What about her?”

“Aren’t we trying to get her back or do you wanna reunite your band?”

“Why can’t we do both?” He crosses his arms, clearly annoyed with her putting a damp towel on his buzz. 

A part of her wanted him to deny it, to tell her that they were pursuing the band now and to forget about Rogue. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest she had since they’d gone to the drive in. Johnny was being the same old Johnny, but all V wanted to do right now was be as far away from him as possible.

“We? That’s a strong word.” She spits.

“What crawled up your ass, V? Didn’t have any objections before.”

“Do you wanna be with her or not?” Her tone is getting aggressive, but she can't control it. Creating distance between them, she leans against the side of the Porsche.

“What are we _babies_? It’s more complicated than that.” A cigarette appears from thin air and he starts smoking. He gazes at V’s expression and knows she’s not gonna let him ignore the question. Sighing, he flicks the cigarette away. “I’d die for her, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Take a bullet for her?” The conversation at the motel in Pacifica comes back to her and especially the feeling of Johnny’s hand in her own. How safe she felt… _How loved._

“I’d do it for you too. Already said I would.” Johnny says. _That’s_ what makes her anger level rise to its peak and completely forget about the filter that separated her thoughts from her words.

“Then you can’t keep leading us on!” V exclaims before she even realized she had said it. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Was there a way to toss back all of Vik’s pills and end this once and for all before Johnny has a chance to—

“Us?” His shades are off. He’s staring at her, and it’s possibly the most intense look V had ever gotten in her life. From all the killers, thieves, and villains who had locked her in their gaze, V had never been this nervous until now.

“Don’t make me say it.” She grimaces, wishing a hole would open up beneath her.

He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” Those eyes return to her face, then they go down observing her as if for the first time. “I’m sorry.”

“For fucking what Johnny?”

“Sorry you feel that way about me.”

Neither of them say anything. V swears the only thing she can hear out here is the sound of her heartbeat rattling in her ears. This was so _wrong_. Johnny was barely even human, just a construct in her head. What was worse was not only was said construct killing you, but also that construct happened to belong to one of the most fucked up people she ever met.

Didn’t stop her from feeling the way she felt.

Then, something is on her cheek, tilting her head up. Johnny’s metal fingers lay on her cheek then slowly wind into her hair. V doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even know if this is real—

When they kiss, it’s like a damn breaks inside V. She practically jumps on him as if there wasn’t a second left in the world. Their lips smash together almost violently. His hands go around her waist, sliding under her top and V moans embarrassingly loud. He guides her head slightly to the side and opens her mouth with his tongue. It’s so good that she can almost forget that hours ago Johnny was doing the same with Rogue.

She steps back, separating them. They’re still so close that Johnny is panting into her mouth and she almost swears she can feel his breath on her face.

“We can’t.” She says.

Johnny gives her an indignant look. Tries to move towards her again, but V side steps it.

“Came all this way for your friends. You’re not here for me.” V turns her back on him and slides into the Porsche.

“You don’t know that.” He’s in the passenger seat, shades off and looking at her with wild eyes.

“I don’t think even _you_ know what you want Johnny.” She pulls the car out of the driveway. V just wants to go home, get a good night’s sleep, and forget any of this ever occurred. She’s just horny as fuck and Johnny’s the closest thing to her. It had nothing to do with the feelings of possessiveness she recalled when her body was so close to Rogue’s. Johnny had control, but underneath she was practically scraping at the walls. He probably chalked it up to her uncomfortableness, but that wasn’t the truth.

She was so fucking jealous she could scream. Jealous that Rogue got to touch the real Johnny even when she shouldn’t be jealous at all because all that got the older woman was heartbreak and misery. Yet Rogue was compelled to keep coming back, the same way V had tossed most of her omega blockers down the drain or Alt kept appearing backstage after concerts. The guy was a mess who was just starting to realize how much his actions fuck people up, but nowhere near self-aware enough to understand the fucked-up love square he was stuck in.

Loving Johnny Silverhand was probably the world’s biggest curse and she was now just another one of the afflicted.

What she didn’t tell Johnny was that she had a small stash of the capsules on her in case it ever came down to the wire. Vik had suggested she give Johnny full reign of her brain if things got so bad, she’d have to give up, but V wanted to die as V.

It was one of the only damn choices she had left in this world. Afterall, she didn’t choose to fall in love with the dead terrorist in her head. 

“Where’re you going?” He had been quiet since she last spoke but hadn’t vanished from the passenger’s seat. There was an awkward energy surrounding the pair that didn’t normally exist.

“Home, I’m fucking tired and we both need to forget about this.”

“Thought we agreed to make decisions together.”

V gives him a stern look from the wheel, as if to ask… _And?_

The outskirts of North Oak start to blend into the neon cacophony of Night City. _Good to be home._ “I don’t wanna forget it.”

“Johnny—”

“It was fucking inevitable wasn’t it?”

“Honestly, never thought you thought of me that way.” She admits sheepishly.

He snorts at her, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Come on, V.”

“You said I wasn’t your type awhile back.” It was near the beginning of their relationship somewhere between her stint with the Voodoo Boys and finding Evelyn. At the time, she tried to convince herself it didn’t sting.

“Well, shockingly, maybe I lied.”

She glares at his condescension and puts her foot harder on the peddle. The sooner she was home the sooner she could drink herself to sleep until Johnny was just a fuzzy voice in the back of her mind.

“Remember what I said yesterday’?”

“God, that was yesterday? Feels like fuckin’ ages.” Ever since Johnny had made himself an occupant of V’s brain the days had been longer than ever. With such little time left to preserve her life she spent all hours of the day active and searching for a solution. She missed the days where she could just laze around and drink beers with Jackie on some random rooftop.

“I said, could use a little more of me in ya. Meant that in more ways than one.”

V slams her foot onto the brake so hard that Johnny’s Porsche screeches against the pavement to make the red light. She whips her head around so fast that she’s sure she fucked up her neck somehow. Johnny is lounging in his seat, feet on the dashboard, not a care in the world.

“You fucker—”

“Could’ve gotten yourself laid ages ago, _hell_ , you may not see the way these gonks look at you, but I do.” His fingers itch for a smoke, but V imagines he refrains to avoid an accident. “A little confidence and you’d be the top shit of Night City in no time. Just like me.”

“And how do I gain this mystical confidence oh wise Silverhand?” V retorts in a mocking tone. She turns onto her street and goes down the long maze of roads to get to the parking garage.

“You learn how to fuck, and you learn how to do it good.”

“Oh my god, we are _not_ talking about this.” Pulling into the parking space, V lays her head on the steering wheel hoping the coolness would calm her nerves. It doesn’t do shit.

“Yes, we are. Personally, I’d be a real shitheel if I let my best choom go straight to the Arasaka snake pit without _something_.”

“You’re so damn sure you’re gonna give me anything?” People in Night City made big declarations to V all the time. She specifically remembers a certain gonk at a bar who promised her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life only to find herself an hour later lying-in bed while said gonk jackhammered her with his fingers. V ended up having to find an incredibly complicated excuse to delta the fuck out of there before they could get down to fucking.

Even in her more serious relationships, the sex wasn’t earth shattering or life altering. V just assumed that a satisfying love life was never in the cards for her. The high from completing a heist was far more valuable to her than a one-night stand in the long run.

She always ended up disappointed anyway.

“I’m more than sure.” He’s closer now, leaning across the divide between them and she can _feel_ every word he says.

V angles her head to face Johnny. She wonders if he’s truly sincere or if he’ll announce that this was all a joke to make her look like a complete fucking idiot. Before she can decide between the two, his hand is on her thigh. She freezes like a deer in the headlights, nearly jumping like a teenage girl on her first date.

She wishes she could go back in time and kill Dexter DeShawn herself for this absolute _bullshit_ she finds herself in now.

“I’m positive.”

Cool metal brushes against her bare stomach under her tank top. She pushes herself against the seat, as if that would relieve the pressure between her legs. He doesn’t _do_ anything, just skims the line between her stomach and the button of her jeans yet V is trembling. She hates to admit it, but maybe he was right, she _needed_ this.

Not wanting to lose the courage V moves quickly, taking her hands to the fly of her pants and attempting to shuck them off. There’s an amused chuckle next to her when she realizes it can’t be done in such little space.

His hand finds a pathway from the waistband of her jeans to her underwear. The thin material of the fabric was the only thing separating her and Johnny Silverhand. It doesn’t even matter because V arches into it. His hand over her panties not even making a move was riling her up more than anyone in the past. Then he starts to rub up and down. V’s mouth drops into an incredibly loud moan and she _prays_ NCPD won’t be surveying the lot at this hour because she’d just about die—

“You’re distracted.” Johnny observes, he’s ceased his movements again.

“How does this feel so real?” She gasps out. Either their connection was becoming stronger or the chip’s influence was getting worse.

Or maybe it was his hand down her fucking pants and how it’s the only thing she can focus on.

“Connection must be extra strong from all the pills we took tonight.”

V tries to control her ragged breathing; she still can’t quite get over how intense this is. Their eyes meet and it is as if he understands exactly what she’s thinking without her having to say it.

“Meet me upstairs.” He says and then fades away.

She practically _runs_ to her apartment and presses the button on the elevator more times than necessary. Thanking her lucky stars that none of her neighbors know her, V is able to get to her door without much of a fuss.

Turning on the lights she’s met with the meowing form of Nibbles who rubs at her heels in greeting. The stray cat was right at home in V’s abode and had made a welcome companion during lonely nights.

V tosses her jacket on the couch and goes to the bathroom to splash herself with some cool water. Looking at herself in the mirror, she notices just how tired her form appears and the lack of glow in her features. These past couple weeks had truly taken more of a toll than she thought.

There’s been no sign of Johnny since she entered her home. Maybe she just hallucinated the entire thing… Brain could be playing especially elaborate tricks on her as her days grew more numbered. Or Johnny truly was fucking with her in the worst possible way.

“Gotta stop thinking I’m gonna betray you, hurts my feelings.”

Her attention is turned away from the mirror and toward Silverhand in the doorway. His gaze is locked on her and she’s suddenly incredibly aware of just what he’s imaging with that stare. She has no idea where this is going to lead… Probably the same heartache Rogue experienced, or the decimation of their relationship like with Alt.

Johnny Silverhand had a good habit of destroying everything around him in a blaze of glory.

But V was already in the eye of the hurricane, there was no disentangling herself from him. Or the way she felt. So, she makes the first move and shucks off her top. It’s the farthest thing from graceful, but the closest look Johnny had ever gotten at her body before was a flash or two while she was changing. She then goes for her pants and brings those down her legs as well.

Clad only in her underwear V takes a couple steps forward until she’s right up against Johnny’s chest. Turning up her chin, she looks the former rockstar in the eye. She wasn’t exactly sure where all this courage came from.

“We could try this, and it could be really fucking awkward.” She says.

As if to respond Jonny’s hands come around her and grip her ass cheeks to pull her closer. “I doubt it,” he muses cheekily.

“ _Can_ we even do this?” V was considered one of the brighter mercs in Night City. Her dedication to tech and hacking gave her an edge against her competitors. She often found it easier to disguise herself as a sound checker than slaughter her way through a nightclub.

But nothing she’s ever read has prepared her for the mechanics of having sex with the chip in your own head. 

Johnny gives her a smirk in reply before disappearing. He reanimates on the living room couch.

“Can’t know ‘till we try.” He drawls, kicking his feet up on her table.

She takes the opportunity to exit the bathroom and go for the pack of smokes in her now discarded jacket. Standing practically naked in front of him, V thought she’d be more insecure, but it feels natural. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but he’d never got to look at her for so long. Fishing a cigarette out of the pack, she sticks it in her mouth and lights up. She never smoked before Johnny because she didn’t have a reason to. Nowadays, her body would cry out if she spent more than a day without them. Breathing out a cloud of smoke, she can still make out Johnny in the haze.

The man in question quirks a finger toward her in a come-hither motion. “Come here.” 

At this point any sort of doubts in her mind melt away. She tries to walk over to him slowly, but then just decides _fuck it_ and strides to the couch. Standing above him, she takes another drag of the cigarette.

“What’re you gonna do Johnny?” Her hand falls and he takes the opportunity to snatch the cigarette from her fingers. His eyes never leave her as he inhales.

“Don’t you wanna find out?” He cages his legs around her, trapping her at the knees. The sudden movement almost makes her tumble, but she catches herself.

Reaching around her, Johnny ashes the cigarette directly onto her table. Before she can yell at him for it his hands are at her sides and two different sensations are hitting her at once. The first being the hand that gripped the gun that took down Arasaka. The second was the one that held her own in that shitty motel, made her feel like she belonged to something… _Someone._

“If you’re gonna keep thinking in metaphors I’m stopping this.” Johnny chides. His hands pause their pursuit right under her breasts. They instead opt to rub small circles around her ribcage.

“Uh-uh no way.” With that V hops on him, using her legs to straddle his lap and arms to make sure she doesn’t fall on her face like a fool. She wonders if she looks like an absolute idiot humping one of her couch pillows—

Any thoughts she would have about the situation immediately exit her brain when Johnny’s hands grip her tits. When his thumbs brush her nipples, she gasps like someone getting their rocks on for the first time. To be fair it had been _awhile_. Then his mouth is all over her chest leaving a series of nips.

_Would they bruise and show up the next day? Was the line between them blurring that much?_

His metal hand moves from pinching her left breast to her face. She tries to ignore the fact that he’s never touched her so gently, with such reverence before. V lets herself nuzzle into cold palm and whimpers when his other hand squeezes her nipple. Closing her eyes, she can feel his fingers trace her lips.

He guides her head down to kiss him again. It felt strangely intimate, with her catching details she hadn’t before. The first kisses were done on pure adrenaline. This one V notices how the scruff of Johnny’s stubble scrapes against the bare skin of her face. Or how she’s starting to taste cigarette smoke when her tongue mingles with his. She takes the wrist of his flesh hand and brings it down to her underwear. He pulls the material down her thighs so nothing is left to the imagination anymore. 

V has to separate the kiss when his hand dips inside to moan. She’s _so wet_ that with anyone else she might have been embarrassed. But this was Johnny, who knew her inside and out, seen her at her best and her worst.

Making eye contact with Johnny has her clench around nothing. His eyes are nearly black with only the glow of the television defining his features. Those eyes in particular are fixed on her rucked down underwear and his hand on her cunt.

He drags her closer till their noses bump together. Dragging his fingers up and down her center, he gathers wetness before pushing in. Fingers twisting inside her, Johnny uses his other hand to hold V still because _she’s_ practically thrashing.

Yeah, she’s been fingered before, it wasn’t hard to find _someone_ in Night City. But it had never been like this and never with someone so—

It’s when the heel of Johnny’s hand rubs against her clit that the word hits her… _Experienced._ Love him or hate him, the man has been around the proverbial block.

Then everything stops. His hands, his fingers, and the momentum of V’s impending orgasm. Her eyes snap to his in a death glare. The former rockstar gives her a half smirk. He pulls his hand back slightly, but V follows him with her hips. Anything to keep him inside at this point.

Turns out it’s exactly what he wanted because the change of angle is phenomenal. This way, V can angle her hips to work herself on his fingers. At this point, she’d chase down every cyberpsycho west of Pacifica on foot just to cum. Something stops her though, Johnny’s flesh hand on her arm, bringing her back to reality. She makes eye contact with him.

“Fuck Johnny.” She says ending their previous silence. “This shouldn’t be possible. Breaks every law of nature.”

His eyes are hazy, as if he’s in deep thought. Thumb absentmindedly stroking the skin of her arm. “With all due respect, _fuck nature_.”

Johnny’s fingers leave her center and drags down her thigh, smearing wetness the entire way. It’s such a dirty gesture that V feels almost scandalized. He grips her from under her chin and drags her down again. His hand nearly covers her entire face as she revels in the sheer size of some compared to herself. The kiss this time is rough, and he bites her bottom lip. Her mound brushes against his clothed cock.

She’s had enough waiting. V’s hands go directly for Johnny’s fly and she has to hold back a look of awe lest to inflate his ego. He definitely had something to brag about all this time, but she’d be _damned_ to give him the satisfaction. Wrapping her hand around him, she adjusts herself above to take him in.

He pulls her down on him taking away all the suspense from the situation. It hurts a little at first, she can feel the burn and stretch and swears she’s either crazy or Arasaka really did make some amazing technology.

Johnny’s hand fists into her hair as he roughly moves her on him, but V has no complaints. Her nipples brush against his shirt. She nearly screams when the pads of his fingers start gently rubbing against her clit. There was too much build up over the last couple weeks for her to sustain this for long. It was only a matter of time before she finishes.

“Oh god, Johnny.” V whimpers into his mouth. “I’m close.”

“Good.” He grips the back of her neck and tugs her in close until her body molds against him. “We’re connected right? You cum, I cum.”

 _How romantic_ … But it makes sense from a technical standpoint.

So, she speeds up the pace and therefore the process. She grinds herself against Johnny’s hand, bringing them both so close to the brink that she can taste it. There wasn’t a time V could remember feeling this weightless as the pressure between her legs releases and she cums.

V’s loud in the moment, but Johnny’s even louder. He grips her tight enough to leave bruises as they ride out the aftershocks. She genuinely has pity for her neighbors right now, but at the same time she’s had enough of her own sleepless nights due to the noise. It came with the territory.

When her breathing evens out she registers Johnny’s warm hand running up and down her back. Then she smells the smoke and removes her head from the crook of the man’s neck. Johnny puffs on the cigarette between his lips. V observes his fingers as he delicately manages the stick of tobacco. Fingers that had just been—

“It’s so much better as a girl.”

Quirking an eyebrow, V gets off of Johnny’s lap and yawns. The events of the day were _really_ hitting her now. “What is?” She goes to her little bed nook, knowing he would follow.

Her body hits the mattress in a thump. Nibbles is already curled up in the corner, fast asleep. Pushing the hair out of her face, she makes space in the bed for Johnny.

“Blowing your load.” He says appearing in the spot she made for him. “So much more build up, _gravitas_. Less sticky too.”

Rolling her eyes, V rolls to her side but is immediately trapped by Johnny’s arm. His mouth goes to her ear and she shuts her eyes. “I’m gonna be pretty glad when you wake up tomorrow.” She feels Johnny’s hand on her breast again. “So much more we gotta do.”

“Oh really? You gonna tell me those things?”

She was starting to slip off into sleep, knowing this would happen the second her head hit the pillow. Johnny seems to be conscious of this because his hands are leaving her body now, but he’s not done talking. “Nah, but if you’re good and go to sleep then sooner rather than later.”

 _No problem there_ , V thinks and drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing smut with Nicki Minaj playing on loop in the background *chefs kiss* this is what the college degree was meant for.


	6. forever is the sweetest con

“Good Morning Night City!” The radio in V’s apartment crackles. “We got a hot one today, so bust out those short shorts and muscle tanks.”

Blinking awake, V gets what the host is saying. Sunlight rays break through her open window and illuminate her skin. A thin sheen of sweat perspires on her forehead. The smell of the food carts below reaches her nose, and she stretches out her limbs. Kicking off the blankets, Nibbles meows in morning greeting from the couch.

Rolling her shoulders, she can hear the cracks in her bones from hunching over on the bike day in and day out. What she needed was a shower to clear her head. Just waking up made her head fuzzy and it was obvious she had slept hard. Trying to parse out the events from the previous night was near impossible with this haze hanging over her.

Entering the bathroom, V gets a peak of herself in the mirror. She looks _far_ more well rested than last night. Her posture is more relaxed, and her skin carries an almost glow about it. There wasn’t a time in recent memory that she could remember looking this refreshed.

Steam starts to fill the room as she turns the tap to the shower. Stepping into the spray she practically sighs from relief. All the grit, grim, and dirt from the night before slip into the drain. It’s when she reaches for the shampoo that the memories start to hit her.

Her and Johnny had sex last night.

Well, as close to sex as you could get with an engram in your head. But… _Fuck_.

“Was waitin’ for you to figure it out. Thought you’d gone dense or something.” She spins around to find him standing not inches behind her. The shower doesn’t get him wet despite his closeness.

V straightens herself up and puts a little distance between them. She was still processing the events of the previous night and the fact that they weren’t all a dream. Waking up naked had been odd, but even odder was that feeling of calmness. Not since the fateful night of the heist had she slept without any bad dreams. Honestly, it was the first truly good sleep she had in years.

“Said there were things we had to do?” Turning away, she scrubs the shampoo in her hair. She can’t tell if his eyes are still on her until he speaks again.

“Track down Nancy for one.”

“That _was not_ what I was talking about.” V lathers in conditioner.

“Still horny are we V? Thought we took care of that last night.”

She turns her back again to pout despite the fact that he can feel her disappointment. “Can’t help the fact that I got that rocker blood in me now.”

“That make me your groupie?” He asks.

“You’d be my first. They say the first groupie is the most cherished one in a rockstar’s lineup.”

“Tempting offer. Depends on how good you do at the Samurai concert.”

She smiles to herself and steps under the spray to wash off. Thank god, Johnny knows how to play guitar because if they were solely relying on V’s skills, they would all be booed off the stage.

When V’s all clean, she shuts off the water and turns to Johnny. There’s no such thing as modesty between them anymore so why bother through the bullshit of getting dressed?

“Seriously Johnny, what’s this _thing_ we gotta do?”

He slips his shades off of his nose and folds them up. “The other night when I was takin’ over I got a call from your friend Padre.”

That makes V raise her eyebrows. Padre never called without good reason.

“Must’ve been in the area and he thought I was doing biz. Anyway, this guy asks me to swipe Kerry’s guitar.”

“So?”

“So,” Johnny gets closer to her until their bodies brush. “Let’s make your boss happy and fulfill his wish.” 

**SOME TIME LATER…**

Twenty minutes later V is dressed and parking her bike outside the lavish apartment complex where Kerry’s guitar is apparently kept. She had gone about doing some other biz in the area before getting to this job. Johnny’s requests were important to her, but she didn’t want him to take precedent over matters like helping her friends. _Speaking of_ , she’d just left the side of River Ward and helping him find his nephew.

Entering the building, she strides past the reception desk to the elevator. Riding up to the seventeenth floor, she wonders if _all_ the old Samurai fans have to be item chasing gonks with half a brain. She swears she’s never spoken to a normal person associated with the band. The closest she could find was Kerry who still had a penchant for touting around weapons when he was displeased. She couldn't help but like the guy though and understood why Johnny considered him a trusted choom. 

Upon entering the apartment, her eyes land on a poster in the corner. For the first time since she’d left home, Johnny appears in front of her. “Weird… Don’t remember this one.” He says.

“Must be all that vodka you sponged up over the years.” Her boots squeak against the shiny floors.

“Let’s get one thing straight, I never touched vodka. Bourbon, whiskey, and tequila – that was my crowd.”

She ignores him, opting snoop around a display of guitars by the door. Bingo. “Can’t have bad luck all the time.” V quips reaching for one of the guitars.

“Save ya some time. It’s none of these.” Johnny’s next to her now, his hand around her wrist, stopping her movements.

V wrenches her wrist from his grip. Her head turns, an annoyed expression on her face. _Why did everything have to be so complicated with him?_ “How do you know?

“’Cause say what you will about Kerry, but he knew guitars. And these’re all hot trash.”

Grumbling under her breath, V heads towards the stairs, hoping that her years of experience in thievery taught her at least one thing. Everyone hides their shit where they sleep. It turns out she’s absolutely right. Not only does she find Johnny’s old pants in a suitcase tucked in the corner, she also nabs Kerry’s guitar from a locked backroom next door. She strides down the stairs of the penthouse to make her exit when her eye catches something.

Another Samurai poster like the ones littered around the apartment. The date under reads July 1st, 2004. It was so long ago that it nearly makes her head spin, yet at the same time she can smell the cheap beer… Hear the roaring crowds, drunk off their asses but ready to party like no tomorrow. Pretty girls blowing kisses and scrawling their numbers on anything. 

“Piss-poor acoustics, that place.” Johnny says, circling around her to admire the poster. “Lighting came a close second. Grub was the worst.” 

The burst of nostalgia wearing off, she comes back to reality. V can feel her attention waning, as it often did when Johnny monologued about the old days like this. She’s about to turn on her heel and head for the door when the next two sentences come out of his mouth.

“’Course, the chicks made up for that. Best pussy I ever ate.” 

Pausing in the entryway, she has the urge to automatically press her legs together. V had made an effort to put the memory of the previous night in the back of her mind. When she worked she had no time to consider personal business. However, it was impossible to deny that she had been chasing the feeling of Johnny’s fingers inside her throughout the day. She’s no sheltered corpo heir or anything. After all, V’s been raised around the most vulgar people in the city. Hell, she cussed like no one’s fucking business and never apologized for it. Vile talk was expected in Night City, but Johnny was saying shit like this to egg her on. He _knew_ how she felt, the bastard could feel it too. What he had done is bided his time until the opportune moment to drop the bomb.

_Fuck, two can play at that game._

Putting her hand on the door-handle, V spins around and puts a hand on her hip. “Dunno,” she says. “Think I’ll top the list soon.” Striding through the open door, she knows the first place she’s heading is straight back home.

**SOME TIME LATER…**

The second she shuts the door he’s all over her. His body crushes into hers and crowds her against the wall. V’s about to speak when his mouth is on hers. Shivering when the sensation of his metal hand hits her warm skin, she’s not sure she’ll ever get over it.

It’s still light outside and the afternoon sun makes V feel hotter than normal. So, she slips out of Johnny’s grasp. Her reflexes had been getting better recently. Taking a breath, V starts to tug off her clothes and discard them. The radio is playing an acoustic song she’d heard a couple times before. She opts not to shut it off. When her shirt hits the floor, Nibbles pounces on it to make the garment his new resting place. Johnny sidesteps the cat to follow her, mouth opening to speak. However, before he can get a word out V is completely naked.

She uses the pause to her advantage and positions herself on her crappy little cubby bed. There’s a chance she looks absolutely ridiculous right now, but she banishes the insecure thoughts from her brain. Johnny Silverhand fucking went for anything he wanted. If there was as much of him in her subconscious as people said, then she’d at least retain the good qualities. Spreading her bare legs, she gives him a good look at her cunt. The night before it was dark and neither of them really saw much of each other.

“You gonna say something or are you show me what you planned?” V oscillates her legs back and forth.

V can say she’s seen Johnny genuinely smile only a few times. She notices that the area around his eyes crinkles when he grins. It makes something in her flutter. “Well, well, well…” He tuts.

By V’s side in an instant, Johnny’s flesh hand wraps around her ankle and inches up her thigh. “Looks like V has some _balls_ after all.”

“You object?” She tries to keep her features schooled, unaffected, and for the most part she’s pulling it off.

Johnny chuckles. “Nah, was gettin’ tired of all the wishy-washy shit anyway. You’re much better when you know what you want.”

“Gee _thanks_.” She says rolling her eyes. “Sure, do know how to talk to the ladies.”

“Don’t usually talk to them.” Is his reply.

Then he’s pinning her legs down by her thighs, fingers digging into her skin. The nails his flesh hand make crescent moons on her thighs while the metal hand grips her. She doesn’t expect him to hold her down so _hard_. Nor does she expect the way her center throbs when he does it. It reeks of some sort of confidence that should normally have made her groan in disgust…

But from Johnny he had proven himself mind blowing at things her previous lovers had completely failed at.

He leans in over her body and his breath ghosts against her breasts. She’s about to egg him on, say he’s going way too damn slow. That’s when he bites her on her left tit just above the nipple. V moans, not really sure what his aim is, but either way she’s enjoying the ride. Laving the sore spot with his tongue, he moves downward where his hands are holding her thighs. She whimpers when he blows a line of air directly onto her center.

The first touch of his tongue is barely there but every single one of her nerves is on fire to the point where she moans shamelessly anyway. He starts at the bottom before circling up to the top as if he’s trying to get _all of her_ in one go. It’s extremely intense. She’d never been eaten out like this before. Maybe that was a testament to her terrible taste (she _did_ really know how to pick ‘em) or the lack of people who gave a fuck about other’s pleasure.

When he gets to her clit he pulls away, letting his breath fan over it. V twists in the sheets, using her hands to grab at her pillow. “You know… None of the shit I’m doing is actually real.” He says into her cunt.

She can feel every word he says reverberate against her. “Johnny,” V says through gritted teeth.

“Engram just imitates what I’m doin’ and implants the code in your brain to synchronize the sensation with the action.” He finishes his point by pressing a kiss to her aching clit.

“Shut the fuck up.” Sweat is beading across her forehead.

“ _Relax_ , V.” He somewhat gives her what she wants by going in again, but he’s definitely holding back. There’s something he wants her to say or admit. Right now, V would take a torch to Arasaka herself to get him to pay attention to her clit again. 

He must've liked that thought because his nose swipes upward, bumping against the thing in question. She jerks under his tight hold, but she’s not getting anywhere. It was kind of funny that all the mercs, cyberpsychos, and militia in Night City couldn’t hold her back, yet Johnny’s hands on her thighs are keeping her still. V feels his smile at her desperation as he leaves her bud behind again. His tongue entering her doesn’t compare to the feeling of _him_ inside her, but it sure does come close. Metal hand shifting to her pelvis, he nearly knocks the wind out of her as he practically fucks her with his tongue.

V burrows her face in the pillow to muffle her yelps as her hands scramble. The next thought that enters her brain is definitely not her own. _Grab your tits,_ Johnny’s voice lulls in her conciseness. She removes her head from the pillow to make eye contact with him. Their eyes meet when V’s hands find her breasts and squeeze at her own nipples. The way they’re connected now makes it so she can _feel_ his approval. It courses over her in a fiery hot wave. At this rate she was going to cum, therefore, so was he.

There had been plenty of times where Johnny Silverhand was the biggest dick in the world. Like when he made her ride in a car with a convicted serial killer because he thought it was funny. Or when he kept her up all night begging for smokes. However, when his tongue moves back up to suck on her clit, he’s her fucking hero. Her brain turns to absolute mush to the point where she doesn’t even realize that his hands have left her body. She’s about to protest when his fingers are inside her now. That about does it. In a moment of pure instinct, V’s hands leave her tits and instead grip at any part of Johnny she can find.

V cums in a mess of whimpers and moans, her hand grabs Johnny’s flesh wrist as he continues to pump his fingers. Back arching, her legs threaten to clamp shut, so his fingers leave her in order to hold her down again. When his mouth finally leaves her V collapses against her pillow. Her body has the consistency of jelly and she knew if she tried to move a muscle, she’d fall to the floor instantly.

She can hear his breathing move across the room. Rolling over, she sees him lounging on the couch and smoking. Attempting to reach out for her own cigarettes, her arm falls lamely back on the bed. There was no hope of V satisfying her craving for smokes for the foreseeable future.

“So?” She asks, adjusting her position on the bed. “Is the dive bar pussy better?”

Some of the cigarette smoke wafts over to her and she realizes Johnny is above her again. She takes the opportunity to get closer to him until her head is directly under his gaze. He looks rather unaffected considering the activities that just took place, but she doubted the engram could replicate sex hair. Sadly, technology hasn't come that far yet.

Lighting a cigarette, Johnny leans in close before taking a deep inhale. He decides to release the smoke when his nose brushes hers. Caught up in the second hand high, V’s head spins. She wonders if he did this to intentionally disorient her for whatever was about to come out of his mouth next.

“Gonna have to readjust my list.”

A smile cracks across her face. “Good,” she says.

He’s holding something in his flesh hand. Placing the object between her breasts, she realizes that it’s the carton of cigarettes she had been previously reaching for and a lighter. It was a small gesture but coming from Johnny it meant a lot. After placing the items down, his hand briefly grips her tit before moving away.

“Fuck V.” He rasps, his eyes holding her own in a death grip. It’s the only hint she’s had that he’s just as _wrecked_ as she is.

Then he’s on the couch again like that exchange had never occurred at all. Turning her head away from him, she lights her own cigarette and takes a puff. As their shared smoke mingles together in the place V calls home she's sure it's the closest she's ever going to get to peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line during the steal Kerry's guitar mission where Johnny was a confirmed pussy eating champ legit was the reason this fic exists in the first place. The fact that CD Projket Red included that line but wouldn't let us romance Johnny is forever villain origin story.


End file.
